


Two Sides of the Same Coin

by livinglittlelie



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Actual Disney Princess Adrien Agreste, And sunflower seeds, By Adrien, F/M, Gabriel's A+ parenting, I may have or my have not been thinking of Ant Man while writing the story, Oh and kinda reveal!fic I guess, Romance, Surprisingly Bowser makes an appearance, You would call this a Romance but it's actually a manual of how to be a Proper Disney Princess, so much drama, this is a birthday present for the best pen pal of the world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-22 23:27:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8305369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livinglittlelie/pseuds/livinglittlelie
Summary: Everything she touches comes alive.Everything he touches turns to dust.They are complete opposites, but they didn't know how lost they were until they found each other.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Leisey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leisey/gifts).



Marinette wasn’t sure when it began, but she remembered how she found out.

She didn’t notice at first, how her plants seemed to grow unnaturally fast since she became Ladybug. She’d always liked to take care of her private garden, so when her most delicate flowers suddenly stopped rotting, the only thing she felt was happiness.

Between her classes, designing and fighting against evildoers, she always managed to find some time to tend her flowers, and her plants seemed to thank her by blooming in the brightest and richest of colours, turning her once boring balcony into a garden that would make anyone green with envy (no pun intended).

It soon became her new favourite spot to do some designing, the bright colours and soft textures inspiring her to no end. Just as her flowers, designs sprout from her pencil in all styles, shapes and budgets.

Weeks after meeting Alya, she’d mentioned her relaxing haven to her enough times for her to beg Marinette to show her. And so one day, with the promise of chill and pastries, Alya came to her room for the first time.

Her gobsmacked face was everything she had been looking for.

“Wow… This is amazing!” she exclaimed, looking around.

“I know, right?”

She turned around, facing Marinette. “How the hell do you manage to take care of them so well? I’ve managed to kill the only cactus I’ve ever had.”

She shrugged, and took away a dry leaf from her hydrangea. The purple flowers were as beautiful as ever.

“I don’t know, to be honest. I struggled for some time with them – these ones _always_ managed to die – but I got the hang of it, I guess.”

The brunette hummed and sat down on the deck chair, looking at the greens and pinks and blues and reds with pleasure. She crossed her legs and sighed satisfied.

“That’s it. This is my favourite place in the whole world. You’ll be seeing more of me in here, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

“What a drag,” Marinette joked. “Do I have to take care of you too?”

“Yep. We could start with those macarons that are waiting for us downstairs.”

Marinette bowed mockingly. “Does your Highness want anything else?”

Alya just stretched, basking on the sunrays of a nice October afternoon. “Mmmno, that will do.”

She rolled her eyes and made a face to the relaxing girl, then climbed down the stairs to her room. She picked up the tray with the pastries and two mugs of tea, and carried them carefully upstairs. She was proud to say she didn’t spill a drop of the drinks.

Alya helped her take the tray to the terrace, and she took impulse to climb up. She took a seat on a folded chair beside Alya, and both girls picked one macaron and bit into them at the same time. They moaned in delight.

“This is delicious!” Alya finished her first macaron. “Yep, I’m going to stay here forever. If you keep giving me sweets and flowers, I’ll be faithfully yours.”

She giggled. “I’ll tell papa to start baking extra macarons, then.”

“You won’t regret it!” she said between mouthfuls.

They chatted about everything, about their summer vacations and schoolwork, not forgetting to mention Paris new superheroes, which Alya already loved. She told her she’d updated her blog with some new pictures of Ladybug, and she loaded it in her phone to show her. She was scrolling down, nibbling a macaron absentmindedly when Alya spoke up again.

“So…”

She raised her eyes from the screen. “So…?”

“When are you going to tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“About your crush.”

Marinette choked on the macaron she’d just swallowed, and she fell into a coughing fit. “M-my wha…?”

“Your crush. Adrien. The blond model sitting in front of you with a strange kink for gloves. The boy you can’t barely talk to. The boy you’ve started to collect pictures and interviews of – and don’t try to deny it, girl. I’ve seen the magazines downstairs.”

“I-I-I…” she stuttered. Her face flushed red.

“Oh boy, this is going to be interesting. Wait.” She rummaged around her bag, cheering with a soft ‘Aha!’ when she found what she was looking for. She took out a transparent bag full of grey seeds.

“What are those?”

“Sunflower seeds. I suddenly had a craving for those.”

“A craving? Are you going to eat those?”

She nodded. “It’s like popcorn. I discovered them when we were travelling around this summer. They’re pretty popular in some countries, did you know?”

Marinette grabbed one seed from the bag and held it with two fingers. “I had no idea. How do you even eat them?”

“It’s hard to explain. Here, let me show you.” She picked one and quickly cracked it open, swallowing what was inside. “There, see? I had trouble at first, ate some shells before I got the hang of it, but I got addicted.”

Marinette crunched up her nose. “You’re eating bird food.”

“Don’t write them off before trying them. But hey, don’t try to avoid the issue. We were talking about your crush.”

Marinette felt her whole face was burning, and judging by Alya’s amused face, she was sure her face was beet red.

“T-there’s not much to say. I fell for him, and I can’t seem to speak human when I talk to him. The end.”

Alya rested her chin on her hand and looked at her with curiosity. “How did you fell for him? I mean, you were super upset with him at his first day, and suddenly you’re all fidgety and fawning over him.”

A soft smile came to her lips when she remembered it. “He apologized. He waited for me after school just to tell me he was actually trying to get the gum out of my sit, not putting it there. It was all a big misunderstanding. He was also very upset we’d begun on the wrong foot.

I don’t know… He looked so open and vulnerable and I just…”

“Fell?”

“Fell. He even gave me his umbrella when he found out I didn’t have one. He was so thoughtful! He’s so kind, and handsome and, oh Alya, he has such a beautiful laugh!”

“Okay, okay! I get it.” She chuckled. Marinette blushed even more, if it was possible. “You’re really serious about that boy, huh? I can help you with him, if you wish.”

Her whole face brightened. “That’d be awesome!” she cheered and launched herself to the brunette, who wasn’t prepared for the sudden tackle. Sunflower seeds flew all over the place, and the floor was full of the little grey snacks.

Marinette groaned. “Look at this mess. Let’s pick it up before birds start coming.”

Both girls kneeled down, cleaning the mess around them. Marinette threw a dubious look at the seeds on her hand.

“I still can’t believe you enjoy eating bird food. Are they even cooked?”

“Roasted, I believe. But I bet you can make them sprout, with this magical touch of yours.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Alya. If they’re cooked they won’t sprout, will they?”

She shrugged. “We don’t lose anything for trying. Do it for science. Do you have a free spot in one of your pots?”

“Yeah, I do…”

“Then come on!”

She raised an eyebrow, sceptical, but stood up and buried the little seed on the dirt, making sure it was properly covered. She then grabbed her water spray and watered the soil a bit, just like she did with her other plants.

“Done. Are you happy?”

“Very much so. Send me pictures if it grows.”

“You know this isn’t going to work, right?”

But against all odds, it worked.

It should’ve taken months for a normal seed to grow into a five feet tall sunflower, let’s not talk about a roasted one. It should’ve been impossible for it to even sprout the tiniest of leaves. But there it was, a full-grown sunflower in only one day.

She touched one of the leaves, making sure that, indeed, the plant was real. A red dot caught her attention, and she watched as a little ladybug landed on her hand. She moved it closer to her, getting crossed-eyed to look at the insect.

“Tikki,” she called for the oddly silent kwami, her voice wavering. She cleared her throat. “What… what’s going on?”

The kwami sighed. “… This is me. That’s my magic.” Marinette turned her head to look at her. “This is unusual. Generally, my Ladybugs lead a totally normal life outside the suit, but some of them are special. You have more affinity to the Miraculous than the average Ladybug, and my magic channels to you.”

“So that’s why the plants keep on growing?”

“Yes. You now channel my power of creation. It’s not very strong yet, but the more attuned you get to my aura, the stronger they’ll get.” She caught her worried glance and hurried to reassure her. “I know it sounds scary, Marinette, but don’t worry. You’ll learn to control them with time. It’ll be like opening and closing a tap.”

Marinette looked down at her trembling hands, Tikki’s words slowly sinking in. She… she had powers, not just Ladybug. Her mind began rushing, going around all the ways things could go wrong, but she shut that part of her mind up.

She wasn’t that insecure girl who thought she didn’t deserve to be Ladybug anymore (well, she tried). She was Marinette Dupain-Cheng _and_ Ladybug. She was one of the defenders of the city.

This was just… an extra of being Ladybug. She could learn to control it, just like she learnt to be the spotted superheroine.

She could do it.

* * *

Adrien knew when it began, and also remembered how he found out.

It began with little “incidents”. Sometimes, things he touched seemed to be infused with bad luck: phones that fell to the floor, a gum that started a big misunderstanding between a classmate and him, and an umbrella that closed on said classmate.

He shrugged it off as a coincidence. He joked that bad luck followed him in and out the suit, but he didn’t know just how accurate that statement was.

Things began breaking the minute after he touched them, at first just one or two, but it became more frequent in time. In the lapse of three weeks, he’d already sent his phone to fix thrice. It was annoying at first, but it became worrying very soon, to the point he began to avoid touching things with his hands.

Then things began to rot under his fingertips.

He’d had yet another argument with his father. He’d asked for a free afternoon; Nino had invited him over to try a new game, but his father refused. Every reasoning he gave fell in deaf ears, and he was sent to his room with yet another reminder of his obligations.

He closed the door of his bedroom with a loud bang. He threw his school bag to the bed, too furious to even hear Plagg’s indignant yelp, and slammed his hands to his desk, the loud hit rattling the mouse of his computer. The movement made the screens light up and the face of his mother stared back at him, as warm and beautiful as he remember her.

He missed her dearly. He missed how she could spend hours combing his hair with her fingers, telling him about her day and asking him about his. With her, it didn’t seem so bad to live where he lived.

But she was gone. His father had scared her off, and she was no longer by his side.

He was sick of it. Why? Why did it have to be this way? Why did everything have to happen to him? Why-

“Kid! KID! Snap out of it!”

He stared dumbly at the black creature floating in front of him. He caught a whiff of burnt wood and looked down, and he retracted his hands as if his desk burned. There were two black scorches on the table surface. Two black scorches with the shape of two hands. Two black scorches where his hands had been resting just mere seconds ago.

“W-wha…?”

“I’m sorry, kid.” Plagg said, serious. Plagg was never serious. “I should’ve told you sooner, but I thought I had more time. I was foolish.”

“What’s the meaning of this, Plagg?”

He sighed. “That’s my magic. It seems you’re more attuned to the Miraculous than a normal Chat Noir, and you’re channelling my powers without the need to be transformed. You don’t have the natural instinct to control it, though.”

Adrien watched closely the palm of his hands. It wasn’t noticeable at first, but you could spot them, if you knew what you were looking for. There were minute black sparks dancing on his skin, appearing and disappearing so fast he thought it was just a sight trick.

It reminded him way too much of Cataclysm.

He clenched his hands in trembling fists, but the sparks didn’t disappear. Plagg put a paw on one of them. “Listen, Adrien. I’ll teach you how to control it, and you’ll get the hang of it in no time. I swear on my Camembert.”

“But what about now? I can’t go around destroying things after touching them, or can I?” He almost ran his hand through his hair, but he thought better of it. His hands fell limp on his sides.

“You can wear gloves.”

Adrien head snapped back to the black kwami. “What? Gloves?”

“Yeah. Surprisingly, cotton has a great endurance to cataclysm. I had two kittens with the same problem as you in the past, and both of them used cotton gloves until they learned how to control it?”

“So that’s it? I begin wearing gloves and problem’s solved?”

“Mmm, I wouldn’t say that. I said that cotton is very resistant to cataclysm, not immune. You’ll have to throw those gloves in a week, week and a half tops. Sooner if you keep getting like that after a fight with your dad. Emotional distress makes your control waver.” He paused and looked around the room. “Do you have gloves in here? Let’s make this your first lesson.”

Adrien thought it over. “I… I think I have a pair somewhere in here.”

He headed to his closet and dug in the socks and underwear drawer. He was almost sure there were some gloves in somewhere… there!

He brought all of them out. He avoided touching the fancy silk ones and focused on the sturdier ones. He soon found a pair of black cotton gloves; they were simple and just what he needed. He grabbed them and brought them to Plagg.

“What about these?”

Plagg placed his paws on them and tugged slightly, testing the material. He nodded, satisfied. “They’ll do. Now put them on.” Adrien followed his command. “Now tell me, what do you feel?”

It was strange. He hadn’t noticed when he had his hands bare, but now that he had them covered he could. There was… something on the palm of his hands. He could only describe it as that tickling you get when you hit a surface hard, like tiny combustions taking place in his hands simultaneously. He could feel how the magic was acting against the cloth, and was eating little by little every cotton thread.

“It’s… weird. Like there are sparks in my hands.” He turned them around. “I hadn’t noticed until I covered them.”

Plagg nodded. “Now, try to make them disappear. Imagine a light switching off, or whatever works best for you.”

He tried. At first, nothing happened, but after a while, he could feel some sparks receding one by one. But, as exhilarating as it was, he soon let go, panting. The sheer effort he’d made had only made the magic disappear in his thumb, and it’d left him exhausted. He could feel his head throbbing already.

“I-I can’t, Plagg.” He moaned, defeated.

“Of course you can, but don’t expect to master it on your first day, kid! You’ll learn, I know you will. The Guardian chose you for a reason, and even I can see it; I know what you’re capable of, and I know that this-” he pointed at his hands– “is something you can do. Practice makes the master.”

Adrien let his words sink in, hoping that Plagg was right. He’d never hear him sound so serious. He was always messing around and whining for cheese, so to hear the kwami talking about his capabilities with such conviction…

Wait, had he said something about a guardian?

“Hey! Wait a moment! A guardian? Someone chose me?”

“Ah… after all this talking I really crave for some camembert. Talking so much makes me hungry. I don’t get why Tikki likes her pep-talks so much.”

“Plagg, don’t avoid the question!”

“Will there be some of that expensive cheese left, or did I eat it all already?” he wondered, completely ignoring the blond teen.

“Plagg!”

Despite all his insistence, Plagg didn’t answer any more questions that day.

The day after, he put the gloves on before going to school, but hesitated before stepping out of the car. They were too noticeable. What if people looked weirdly at him? What if people talked behind his back?

But what option did he have left? He couldn’t waltz in, hands uncovered, and make doors and tables disappear in the way. People would really stare then. Maybe even scream.

His mind set, he opened the door and walked out of the car, meeting Nino at the entrance. He waved at him, and mentally smacked himself afterwards, as the movement drew Nino’s eyes to his covered hands. He raised an eyebrow at him.

“Gloves?”

He took a deep breath and threw the excuse he’d practised all that morning. “Yeah. My father was worried about germs or something, and he’s making me wear gloves. You know, for my ‘protection’,” he remarked the last word with his fingers.

“Man, that sucks. When’s your father going to be, well, a good father?”

“Beats me.” He shrugged. “So, how was the videogame?”

Nino threw himself into an excited explanation of his gaming experience, their prior conversation already forgotten. He sighed in relief. No one was throwing him odd looks, and he hadn’t destroyed anything thus far. He could feel the familiar sparks on his skin, but the gloves kept them at bay.

He felt like things weren’t going to change so much, after all. He could manage wearing gloves for a while, until he got the hang of his powers.

He could do it

* * *

It felt liberating, being Chat Noir. All the pressure poured on him, all the control of his every move was left behind with Adrien Agreste, and Chat could soar the skies freely.

His feet carried him away of everything that bothered him as a civilian. There was no rush, not acting. He didn’t need to control his powers in his leather suit; he felt the energy pulsating on his skin, and he welcomed that tingling sensation, instead of trying to shut it off.

He landed on a random ceiling, and he was greeted with an amazing view of Paris night skyline. Despite being Chat Noir for two months, he hasn’t gotten tired of the view yet. He doubted he ever would.

He retracted his baton and sat down on the ledge, letting his feet dangle in the void. He placed his hands on the floor and rested his weight on them. He sighed in contentment.

His ears moved at the slightest of sounds. It was a noise he knew quite well, the sound that made two brittle feet when they landed on a rooftop, as soft as the fluttering of a butterfly’s wings. She silently made her way to his side and sat down, enjoying the scenery just as he had some minutes ago.

“Good night, _minou_. Fancy meeting you here. I wasn’t aware we had patrol tonight.”

He heard her hidden question, _‘are you okay?’_

“Don’t worry, my Lady. I was feeling like blowing off some steam. But I feel honoured to have bumped into you.” He threw her a side-glance. “What about you?”

_‘Is there something wrong?’_

“Same as you, it seems. I was feeling restless, so I sneaked out at the first chance I got.”

“Were you hoping to meet _meow?_ ” He wiggled his eyebrows. Her easy smile tightened a bit.

“Not for the puns, that’s for sure.”

“ _Me_ -ouch!”

They fell into a comfortable silence, sitting side by side and looking at the tilting lights of the city. It was Ladybug who broke the silence again.

“Chat… are you really okay?”

“I have you by my side, my Lady, how couldn’t I be? I am the happiest Chat of all Paris right now.”

She scoffed, “I’m being serious. Tell me what’s wrong.” She turned her head to look at him dead in the eye, and her blue gaze pierced into him.

Despite her down-to-business demeanour and his flamboyant acting, they made quite a good team. He was strong when she was weak, and she supplied what he lacked. They could understand each other with just a look, just a gesture, and their teamwork was flawless.

He knew that, when she was looking at him like that, there was no avoiding of the answer, and she knew that he knew. She knew he wasn’t okay, and he knew that she knew. True, they had rules about their civilian selves, but each other’s wellbeing was way more important than that.

He sighed in defeat, and he suddenly felt the need to tell her. He hadn’t noticed he needed to vent out until then, until she pointed it out. It seemed that, once again, she knew him better than he knew himself.

“It’s something relative to my civilian self… well, and Chat Noir as well. Some days-” _a month and a half-_ “ago, I found out that… well… it’s difficult to explain, really.”

“Don’t worry, we have time.”

He nodded. “Well, it seems that my powers as Chat Noir carry to my civilian self too. At first, it began with bad luck, but then… things began rotting under my hands. My kwami said that I was...”

“… more attuned to your Miraculous than average?”

He blinked at her, dumbstruck. “Yeah. How did you know?”

“Tikki told me the same a week ago.” She shrugged. “My plants grow unnaturally fast.”

Chat hummed, “so you have it too, huh? What are the odds?”

She chuckled at that. “Very slim, I’m sure of it.”

Silence fell between the two again, both superheroes lost in their thoughts. It had come as a surprise, Chat thought, that Ladybug shared the same fate as he did. She’d said things grew around her, right? That was so her. She had the power of creation, but he…

He was the destruction. Everything around him rotted and broke, and he couldn’t help but think that it fitted him in a twisted way. He had a broken family, after all.

“Chat.” Her voice was soft yet strong, and it snapped him out of his dark thoughts. He raised his eyes to meet hers.

“Yes, my Lady?”

“Stop. Stop beating yourself over it. It’s not your fault to begin with. You’ll get the hang of it, I’m sure.”

He threw her a crooked smile. It wasn’t a happy one. “Plagg said that too.”

“That’s because it’s true.”

“It certainly doesn’t seem like it right now,” he chuckled darkly, “I can’t touch anything, or anyone for that matter, without hurting them. I’ve done everything in my power to control them better, to no avail. They just keep on getting stronger. It’s a curse. There’ll be a point where I won’t be able to touch anyone in fear of marring them for life.”

“That’s not true,” she said firmly, and she said it with a conviction that almost made him believe her words. He wanted to believe her so badly, but he couldn’t. Not with that.

She reached for his hand and held it in hers. He couldn’t help but feel like they fitted somehow, like two pieces of a puzzle. She showed him their joined hands proudly, a small smile in her face.

“See? It’s okay.”

He swallowed down the lump in his throat. “That’s because we’re in the suit. I’m controlling it now.”

Her eyes saddened and she turned to face ahead again, but her hand never left his. They spent some minutes in silence, until she sighed.

“I’ve got to leave now. I’ve still got things to do before I go to bed.” She stood up, dropping his hand. He could already feel getting it colder. She looked down at him, and concern oozed from her whole self. “Will you be okay?

He stood up too, stretching. He then grinned playfully at her. “Bugginette, are you worried about me? You make me feel so happy!”

She rolled her eyes and reached for her yoyo, unclasping it from her hip. She threw it to the next building’s cornice, the weapon latching onto a grate. Before bolting, she turned her head to look at him, and the softness of her expression made his heart quicken.

“You know, _Chaton_? I think you’re wrong. We’re like the Ying and Yang – everything you destroy, I’ll fix it. I promise.”

She didn’t leave him any room to answer, as she leaped to the void just as he opened his mouth to talk. He observed her graceful moves when she soared the skies, a dark red dot in the middle of the twinkling lights of the night. He left out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, and he could feel a little, but sincere, smile coming to his lips.

“I’ll hold onto that, my Lady,” he whispered to the midnight air. It suddenly felt easier to breathe.

* * *

“Do it again.”

Adrien huffed, but did as he was told. He narrowed his eyes as he focused (once again) on the palm of his hand. One by one, the blinking black sparks began to recede, leaving his hands free of power little by little. Tiny drops of sweat began forming on his forehead, and he bit his lip trying to hold on.

He moved his hand forward and touched with the index finger a mug. It didn’t break at the contact. Adrien was about to cheer in glee, but his control slipped and the dark dots covered his skin again. The dots rapidly reached the mug before he could take his hand back, and he watched how the porcelain aged in the matter of seconds, cracking and greying before it became too much and collapsed on itself. It became an unrecognisable pile of dust.

“Which mug was this one?” Plagg asked.

“Of today’s practice or since we started practicing?”

“Of today.”

“It’s the seventh one.”

“Good. Do it again.”

Adrien huffed. “And why should I? It’ll end up breaking, just like _all_ the others.”

“Kid, you need to learn how to use your powers. Do you think you’ll get it right at first try? My powers are way stronger than that, and I’m the core of yours. If I didn’t control mine, I could destroy your entire house just by sitting on your desk.”

Adrien put on the gloves, his frown deepening as his thoughts turned dark once again. He scowled, fed up with just _everything_. “But I don’t seem to make any progress.”

He leaned down, ready to rest his head on the table, but he was stopped by Plagg’s paws on his forehead. He suddenly looked serious, and Plagg hardly ever looked serious.

“Plagg… What are you doing?”

“Calm down first.”

Mildly confused and on alert, he straightened up and took in some calming breaths, trying to calm his self-depreciative thoughts. He looked at the kwami, who flew to a dish full of cheese – his payment for the lessons – and began eating. He put his confused feelings aside and focused on him, the slightly annoying but oddly relaxing act soothing him.

“Okay, I’m good.”

Plagg threw him a side-glance and gulped down the last of the cheese. “Remember when I told you that your control of it wavered when you were distressed?” He nodded. “Well, you were about to use cataclysm with your forehead.”

“WHAT!?”

He stood up abruptly, making his chair fall backwards, and ran to the en-suite bathroom. He gripped both sides of the washbasin and looked at his reflection intently. At first, he saw nothing, but then he spotted them. There they were, those tiny black sparks dancing on his skin, increasing in number the more upset he got.

Plagg hovered around his head, trying to catch his attention. “Kid, listen to me. Stop it. They’ll disappear once you calm down. You can control it.”

“I-I… I can’t do it, Plagg.”

The kwami’s eyes narrowed, and he put himself between the boy and his own reflection.

“Yes. Yes, you can. Can’t you see all you’ve accomplished so far? The Adrien that made those scorched marks on his desk would’ve cried in glee to know he would be able to touch a mug without gloves again.”

“It broke, Plagg. Just like the others.”

“But you touched it! You were in total control of it for five seconds, and only training for three months! Your connection to the Miraculous grows stronger every day, but your control of it doesn’t waver, far from it. You’re gaining ground, step by step. You. Can. Do. It.”

Adrien sighed, and Plagg could feel him closing up. He clenched his paws shut in little fists, frustration overcoming him. He felt the need to let his power loose, destroy everything around him, to free him of that oppressing cage, but he wouldn’t do it. He couldn’t do that to him.

“I think…” Adrien began, “I think I just need some air. You know… to cool down a bit.”

“Maybe’s a good idea. Let’s call it a day.”

Adrien nodded and held his shirt open, inviting. With a soft scowl, Plagg dived in the cloth and made his way to his usual hiding spot. He could feel Adrien’s heartbeat against him, a bit too quick for his liking. His muscles were tense. He placed a paw on his chest, and he could feel him relax slightly.

Plagg sighed silently and cursed at his inability to deal with anxious teenagers. Tikki would’ve calmed him in the matter of minutes, but there he was, letting his wielder fall into a spiral of dark thoughts because he didn’t know how to ease him.

He’d never felt as useless as then.

Adrien walked down the streets silently, not even attempting to strike up a conversation. He’d managed to sneak out without the Gorilla noticing, so he was free of his bodyguard. He felt Plagg shifting inside of his shirt, but it wasn’t annoying. It was a reminder that he was there.

It was a calm evening. The sun was setting, and the golden sunrays bathed the city, no clouds in the sky that could shadow the warm hue. There weren’t many people in the streets, and Adrien could feel himself calming down.

On such a relaxing day like this, you would think nothing could possibly go wrong.

An explosion nearby proved him wrong.

The shockwave knocked him out of his feet, and he fell on his hands. The friction of the concrete and the sudden loss of control of his power pulverized his gloves, and he cursed when he could feel the sting of new scratches on the palm of his hands.

He stood up, careful not to touch anything, and looked around. There was smoke coming from a shop at the other side of the street, an ugly gurgle coming from there. He searched for a place to hide, tying to put as much distance between what sounded distinctly like an Akuma and himself.

Debris flew everywhere with the second explosion. He managed to keep standing this time, only stumbling a bit. He avoided a flying rock expertly, but his feet faltered when no other than _bloody Bowser_ came out of the wrecked shop. He stared, mouth agape, how the cartoonish dinosaur guffawed and took a Bob-omb out of his shell.

When his feet decided to move, it was too late. The Bob-omb’s wick was already lit up, and the Akuma!Bowser had thrown it at his direction, hiding in his sturdy shell afterwards. He turned around and legged it, but he knew he didn’t have enough time. He heard the ticking coming from the bomb, the impending explosion only seconds away when-

“Watch out!”

That was all he heard before a body collided with him. They both fell to the floor at the same time the Bob-omb exploded, and the mass of tangled limbs and joined bodies rolled away from the blast.

He felt softness against his cheek. He raised his head, and saw a pair of the deepest of blue eyes looking back at him. His hand – his bare hand – was resting against her other cheek, his fingertips grazing the material of her red and black mask.

“Are you okay?” she asked, concern coming from her.

He got off her, looking at her face with bewilderment. He… he hadn’t hurt her? He hadn’t felt the crippling energy take effect on her, and her skin was as perfect as always, her soft cheeks taking an adorable pink hue.

“Y-yes!” he finally answered, “I’m okay.”

She nodded and stood up. “It’s not safe to be around here. You should get out of here now. Chat Noir and I will deal with the Akuma, I promise.”

She lent a hand to him, smiling down at him with that confident smile of hers. He looked at her face, then her hand, and up to her face again. His bare hand slowly reached for hers, and his fingers tangled with her gloved ones. She helped him stand up, the movement seeming easy, and his hold in her hand lingered for a second.

“Come on, go get cover.”

He nodded and turned around, leaving Ladybug alone with the Akuma; but it wasn’t for long, as Chat soon made his appearance.

When he was tucked in his bed that night, his mind couldn’t help but wander to that moment again. It had been so long since he felt someone else’s touch on his skin, and the fact of being her just made it so much better.

He still couldn’t believe his cataclysm hadn’t had an effect on her. It must have been the suit; just as the energy couldn’t get out of his, hers must stop it to get to her. Or maybe it was her natural ability, just like she said, her creation power nullifying his destructive one.

No matter how that could be possible, he craved for her touch again.

* * *

Marinette couldn’t open the latch. She pushed a few times, but the little door was stuck again. She could see stems and leaves tangled with it from the little window, and she sighed. She rested her shoulder on the latch and pushed with force, the plants finally giving in and letting the door open.

Her terrace was a jungle. She began her weekly clean-up cutting the dried leaves and the overgrown stems, giving the plants a somewhat more cared look. She then picked up the broom, and swept all the fallen leaves and cut bits, gathering all of them in a plastic bag.

“I don’t know why I keep bothering watering them, as they keep growing anyway.”

“But it hasn’t been as bad as last week’s, right?” Tikki interjected from her shoulder.

Marinette snorted. “Nothing could be as bad as last week’s. Spent a whole afternoon in here, cleaning weeds coming out of everywhere.”

In those four months, Marinette had come to understand her powers better. It seemed that her power of creation came out in bursts, at first random and erratic, but she managed to learn to control the frequency of it. Kind of.

She could control the strength and width of the burst consciously, making them stop if she concentrated fully on it, but she hadn’t learnt to control them subconsciously yet. In situations like sleeping, or when she was focusing on something else, the bursts got stronger, and their effects were unpredictable.

Her plants grew overnight. She couldn’t touch books too much, or leaves began sprouting from them, more so if she was focused on designing. That made her abandon her faithful sketchbook for a while, at least until she got the hang of it, and stick to her tablet. She also chose to design outside, so her own plants weren’t affected from her lack of control.

But it wasn’t only plants what her magical touch messed up, it affected everyone around her too. Alya was always saying her hair had never grown so fast, nor her nails; and hers were affected too. Random ladybugs appeared in her room so frequently she was seriously considering forming an army of them, like in the film she saw some days ago. Food tended to rot a bit quicker than before in her home, but luckily, it hadn’t affected too much to her parents’ pastries.

To say it was annoying was an understatement.

Tikki listened patiently to her complaints, reminding her just how far she’d gotten since she started. She taught her different methods to control her magic, and she felt elation every time she got it right.

The kwami had always said she would get the hang of it eventually, and she was starting to believe it. She only wished she could be a bit quicker about it.

Marinette felt the impending wave of power incoming, the soft crackle coming from her skin being a dead giveaway. She closed her eyes and encompassed her breathing, trying to feel the pulsations of the power, trying to burst out.

Just as Tikki had taught her, she left her mind blank and focused on the cripples of her skin, beckoning them in again, where they belonged. It was hard at first, as always, but they soon receded inside her, leaving her with a feeling of completeness and warmth.

She opened her eyes again when she felt she was at control, and the first thing her eyes landed on was the smiling face of the red kwami.

“I’m so proud of you, Marinette. You’re learning so fast. I knew you were a natural at it.”

She blushed lightly at the praise. “I do what I can.”

“It’s still a lot; don’t underestimate yourself. So-” she inched closer to her, her curiosity evident in her big eyes– “what have you felt this time?”

“I felt like… like there was some part of me that was trying to get out, but when I stopped it, I felt complete again.” She looked down at her hands, opening and closing her fists. “It felt nice.”

Tikki nodded. “You’re getting more attuned to me as time goes by. In no time, you’ll have the complete access to my powers, and with a bit more of practice, you’ll be able to control them easily.”

Marinette frowned at that. That brought a thought that had been roaming in her head from time to time.

“Is that okay, though, for a human to have the power of a god?”

“… it depends on how you use them.” Tikki sat down and looked up at her. “As kwamis, we’re slaves of our Miraculous. We have to obey every time our wielder calls for the transformation, we’re literally sucked in.”

“But that’s horrible!”

Tikki merely shrugged. “It was the price we had to pay. Even though we’re what some cultures could define as gods, we’re linked to our masters; but that doesn’t mean our link is going to be the same with every wielder.”

“How so?”

“When we appear for the first time in front of our new wielder, our souls interact with each other and connect. The more likely the two are, the stronger the link gets, and that translates in your abilities in the suit, and in some extraordinary cases, out of it, too.

Marinette, you having my powers doesn’t concern me. This is not like our attachment to the Miraculous; I could try to stop projecting my powers to you, at least to some extent, but I _want_ you to have them. I’m linked to you, and denying you my powers would feel wrong. Moreover, because of that link, I know I can entrust them to you.”

Marinette let her words sink in, and she felt overflowed with the trust Tikki was putting on her. She trusted her completely, and she _knew_ she would do the right thing with them.

She picked up the kwami and rubbed her cheek with hers, letting out a small giggle of happiness. Tikki returned the gesture, smiling with glee.

“Thank, you Tikki… this means a lot.”

“You deserve it, Marinette. You’ve been absolutely fantastic.” Marinette placed her down, and the kwami frowned. “However, I wonder how it’s going for Chat Noir.”

The dark haired girl cocked her head in confusion. “Why?”

“Unlike you, Chat has it a bit more difficult. Plagg’s abilities are much more complicated to control. Yours come in bursts, but his are a constant stream. They’re always activated, and the amount of self-control he needs is just… it could be too much for the poor guy.”

“Can’t Plagg stop projecting them, just like you?” she asked horrified.

Tikki shook her head. “It’s not that simple. Our power is more spiritual, but theirs relies on physical contact. Plagg needs to touch him in order to absorb the power, and even if he could be touching him, it gets exhausting in a while. It would be perfect for your strong bursts, but for his constant streaming? Not so much. The only way they have to stop it is if he learns to control it, or if he stops being Chat Noir.”

“That’s horrible…”

“That’s why you need to be understanding with him, Marinette. He surely gets frustrated constantly, so you’ll need to support him.”

“Of course I will. We’re partners; he has my back, and I have his. He’s always there to help me, so I’ll make sure I do the same.”

But, Marinette thought afterwards, how would she be able to give him strength, when she didn’t know who he was behind the mask? How would he be able to rely on her if he didn’t know where to find her?

She had never felt more tempted to reveal their identities.

* * *

They were getting stronger. He could feel it.

He felt his control slipping more and more, and no matter how much time he spent training, he didn’t seem to progress.

He spent more time being Chat Noir lately. He felt in complete control of himself then – his body acted with his every command, precise and quick. His powers rested dormant until he called for them, and they always did what he wanted.

That didn’t meant he had given up, of course not. He kept on trying, day by day. There were some good days, when it seemed that he finally might be in control; but there also were some bad ones, when no matter what he did, everything ended up broken and tainted.

Today had been one of those days.

His feet were quick, and his leaps wide. He jumped from rooftop to rooftop, no destination in mind. His only companion was the rising moon and his own thoughts.

Once Adrien had cooled down, he could understand why his control had slipped so many times today. Exams were coming, and that combined to all his extracurricular activities and his superhero duties, it had left him drained. Their last practices had been a warning of what would happen soon; that he would reach his limit someday, and it seemed that today had been enough.

In days like this, he missed Ladybug. She was a constant stream of good energy and happiness, and by her side, he felt… good. It was like all the pressure disappeared with one of her smiles, and she made him believe that everything really would get better.

But he didn’t know where she was. She was a complete mystery, and no matter how much he craved for her, she was unreachable, like a dream.

However, she was changing. She was more open, her smiles came faster than before, and she stopped avoiding physical contact, something he was ecstatic about. Her whole presence nurtured her, and she was the balm for all the disappointment in his civilian life.

Chat changed directions, letting his instincts guide him. The sun was completely set, and the shadows of the streets enlarged and darkened under the light of the lampposts, giving the city this eerie look he loved so much.

His feet stopped at a random rooftop. He looked down at the darkened park in front of him and his feet moved again, propelling his body towards it. His whole body fell on autopilot, but instead of being scared, he let it guide him.

And he found her. Her hair was free of the usual red ties, and it was swaying with the soft breeze. Her petite frame was enveloped with a soft pink blanket, her pink lips were furrowed, and her eyes were focused on the tablet in her hands.

But what took his breath away was how the bushes, flowers and morning glory of the garden seemed to surround her, giving the image that not only she belonged in this wild but controlled world, but that she was the centre of it. She was an appearance, beautiful and ethereal all the same.

He felt a burst of _something_ coming his way, leaving him warm and tingly. He blinked, and his eyes widened when he saw the morning glory growing and curling around her some more, like they wanted to protect the girl in the core. Flowers bloomed one by one, designing constellations in the green sea of leaves and stems. Bushes began coating the floor, threading a carpet just for her to walk on.

She looked like a goddess; and for him, she was one.

He must had let out a soft gasp, because the girl lifted her eyes at his direction, and his eyes met the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. Little stars twinkled in those deep pools of seawater, unfamiliar yet familiar at the same time. Her lips curled in that sweet smile of hers, the one he’d seen counted times, and it had the same effect at the energy burst of before.

“Chat Noir,” she called for him, and he shuddered.

“Marinette,” he breathed.

She stood up and walked towards him, the leaves opening the path but lingering at her touch, reaching for her. She stopped in front of him and grinned, grabbing the long blanket to stop it from falling.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

He tried to compose himself, but it was so _difficult._ Because in front of him wasn’t just his Princess, oh no. She was much more than that. She was so much more than that and he hadn’t _noticed_ until then _._

But her eyes got that tiny spark of worry at his lack of answer, so he put himself together and thought of a proper answer.

“I could ask you the same. A bit late to be loitering around at a park, don’t you think?”

She looked around as if the very thought hadn’t crossed her mind, as if she hadn’t been aware of the passing of time. When her eyes landed on her early seat, he felt her stiffening slightly, surely noticing what had happened around her while she was scribbling down at her tablet.

“I was designing something. I guess I lost track of time.” She threw him a side-way glance, and that familiar spark of concern fell into her eyes again. “Is everything okay?”

He smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry, there’s no Akuma attack tonight.”

“That’s not what I meant.” She crossed her arms.

“I’m fine, Marinette. Just taking a stroll, I promise.”

Her eyes lingered on him, studying his expression. She relaxed afterwards, surely finding what she was looking for, and hugged her form again.

“Well, I need to go home before my parents get worried.”

“Do you want me to take you? You’ll get home faster.”

“You don’t need-”

He put a hand on her shoulder. “I insist.”

She sighed. “Fine.”

She threw his arms around his neck in an embrace, the blanket now covering both of them, and he held her tight with one hand, while the other looked for his baton. He let himself relish her warmth for a bit before extending his baton and vaulting to the dark night.

It felt natural to carry her. Her hold on him never wavered, and his strides found the way to her home easily. He let himself drop from a rooftop to the floor, holding her with both arms and landing silently on the ball of his feet.

He felt reluctant to let her go, but he finally let his hold loose so she could step out of it. He felt cold when she took a step back; but he suddenly felt another burst of that warm energy coming from her, weaker than before, but still there. It gave him the warmth back.

“Thank you for the ride.”

He bowed and took her hand in his, placing a soft kiss on her knuckles. “It was my pleasure, Princess.”

“I guess… I guess I’ll be seeing you around?”

He nodded. He took his baton out again and extended it, getting ready. He gave her a two-finger salute. “ _Au revoir_ , Marinette.”

He landed on the nearest rooftop, and watched her turn around and head for her home. When she opened the door, the smell of sweet pastries got to him.

He turned around and left the warm home, but strangely, he didn’t feel sad about it. Because he knew where to find her, and he knew he would be seeing her beautiful smile in the morning.

* * *

A startled cry snapped him out of his musings. He raised his head abruptly, just to see Nino in the floor, withering in pain and holding a hand to his chest. He stood up and rushed to help him, kneeling down and trying to know what was wrong.

“Nino! Nino, what’s wrong!?” he asked once he calmed down a bit.

“I-I don’t know, man. I was trying to get your attention but…” he uncurled his hand, and Adrien’s eyes widened. There’s no way. “You zapped me real good, dude. It hurt like a bitch.”

But Adrien couldn’t move. There, in Nino’s palm, were those familiar black sparks, dancing and blinking out of existence slowly, at the same pace as Nino began feeling better. He hadn’t snapped him. Nino had grabbed his arm, but he hadn’t been in control of his powers, so they had hurt Nino. He had hurt Nino.

He needed to get out. He needed to get away of him. He needed to get away of everyone, until he didn’t hurt anyone else.

He stood up and bolted out of the classroom, ignoring the startled cries of his classmates. He needed to escape. He needed to hide. He needed to find a place where he could calm down, until he controlled it. He didn’t want to hurt anyone else, so please-

“ADRIEN!”

Her voice called for him, and he quickened his strides. Not her. Everyone but her. He didn’t want her to see him like this, out of control and dangerous. He didn’t want her to hurt her.

But her quick steps followed him. When he ran faster, she followed. He did multiple turns and twists, and when he stopped hearing her he let himself sigh in relief. Now, if he could find somewhere-

A hard body came out of nowhere and collided with him, stopping him in his tracks. Both of them rolled on the floor, but once the surprise faded out, he squirmed to get off her.

_Don’t touch her, don’t touch her, don’t TOUCH HER!_

But her bare hand reached for his arm, the same arm that Nino had grabbed, the same arm that had gotten him hurt.

Warmth seeped through him like nothing he’d felt in his life. It was like a tidal wave, hauling every dark thought and fear inside him and leaving him bare and open to her touch. Everything that clashed inside him suddenly calmed down, leaving him with a feeling of fullness he’d never felt before.

Where their skin touched, dark sparks joined pink ones. She looked at him with those big blue eyes of hers, and he shuddered. At that moment, there was nothing else but her. Everything around them didn’t matter, just her touch.

Her hands darted to his gloved ones and slowly, as if asking for permission, she removed one of his gloves. Once his hand was bare, she placed her hand in his, interlocking their fingers together, and Adrien sighed. This felt way better.

“ _Chaton_ ,” she whispered like a prayer.

“ _My Lady._ ”

She leaned in and fell into his open arms. He held her like the precious thing she was, his hands never leaving her skin, and raising goose bumps where his fingers trailed. Everywhere they touched, Adrien felt warm.

“I’m sorry, _Chaton_ ,” she whispered against his collarbone, “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you. I didn’t know how bad it was until now.”

“I don’t care, Marinette.”

“But I do!” she raised her head, and tears began falling from her eyes. He cleaned them with his lips, the soft contact making sparks appear. “You haven’t seen yourself back there. All this time, you’ve hid it. You must have felt so alone…”

“But I have you now. That’s all I care.”

They didn’t leave each other’s embrace for a long time. When the bell rung, signalling the end of class, both of them went to her house. They spent hours at her terrace, her showing him her powers and him showing hers.

They began helping each other on their training. When Adrien lost control, she only needed to touch him, and he calmed down. As she had said months ago, she fixed everything he broke, and he helped her control her bursts when they were too strong.

They sometimes fought, their lack of confidence and own doubts getting in the way, but they lasted less than an hour.

And, after a year of baby steps and never-ending training, they got the hang of it, just like both kwamis had said they would. Adrien could go around without gloves again, and his fear of touching had but completely vanished. Marinette could return to her sketchbooks, and spent days redrawing all the designs stored in her tablet.

They were in complete control, but when they held hands, sparks still flew between them.


End file.
